


on the ownership of trousers

by Tozette



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Mpreg, Or so I've been told, blanket permission for podfic or translation, references to trauma, references to violence, those uchiha kids are pretty fucked up, uchiha family feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tozette/pseuds/Tozette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"There’s a recessive gene in our clan, which allows men to carry a child to term. It is... not as easy as the pregnancies of most women, but it is possible. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(Sasuke and Itachi talk. It is simultaneously better and worse than anticipated.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	on the ownership of trousers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sylvaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaine/gifts).



> Sylvie started yelling in chat about MPREG ITACHI so you can blame them. This fic is what resulted, and I was definitely not expecting anything quite so feelsy when I started.

Itachi sighed gently and then sipped his tea. "Sasuke..." he said, as though he thought Sasuke was making a terribly big deal out of this nonsense.

For the record, Sasuke was not.

Sasuke was displaying a perfectly natural response to the stimulus, which was clearly to _freak the fuck out._

Because below those serene, unfocused eyes, below the tea cup, below his heart - which Sasuke had more or less intended to tear out with his teeth - was a... swell.

It was just a _little_ too big to be the makings of a pot-belly, and Sasuke couldn’t contemplate the idea of a twenty-something Uchiha ninja with a flabby stomach anyway.

If Itachi wanted to kill him, Sasuke thought stupidly, now would be a really good time, because he was probably too shocked and upset to react.

He sighed again. “Sit down, little brother,” he murmured.

Clearly there wasn’t going to be any fighting today.

Slowly, Sasuke sank down into the seat opposite Itachi. He couldn’t draw his eyes away from his swollen belly. It looked --

“Do you have some kind of parasite?” he blurted, clutching at straws.

Itachi looked back at him passively for a second. Then he blinked once, slowly. “There’s no call to be rude.”

“You’re a _guy_ ,” Sasuke snarled, slamming one hand on the table.

Itachi looked at it for a second. He reached out one of his own hands - pale, dexterous, and _so very dangerous_ \- and Sasuke snatched his away. Itachi let his hand fall. His expression never changed.

“It came as something of a shock to me, too,” Itachi said, resting his free hand now protectively upon his belly. “It’s not traditional,” he added - mildly, because everything Itachi said was mild and flat and bland right up until he was hissing _survive in an unsightly way_ into your ear, backlit by a red sky and the bodies of your family --

No.

Sasuke took a deep breath.

“How?”

“Orochimaru-san has been quite remiss in your education, apparently,” murmured Itachi.

Sasuke looked blankly at him. “What?”

One of Itachi’s eyebrows rose by half a millimetre. For Sasuke, reading his expressions was a study of long years of his childhood; amused. Itachi was amused. And pleased on some level. “I became pregnant because I consented to be anally penetrated during intercourse, which --”

Sasuke twitched. His brain flew off its rails like a runaway freight train on fire, and all he could think was that _Aniki stop talking oh my god no more talking make it stop_. And so he jerked violently and threw a kunai at his face.

Itachi tilted his head, eyes still staring blankly at Sasuke, and allowed the kunai to sail past his face and into a vase three tables away. It broke with a crack. Petals shivered and fell.

“You asked, little brother. Traditionally that is how pregnancy occurs.”

“You’re a _man_ ,” Sasuke hissed.

“Well,” said Itachi, taking another maddeningly lengthy sip of tea. “As it happens, that is why I invited you here--”

“You didn’t _invite me_ ,” Sasuke bristled, gesturing around the tiny tea shop. It was almost empty except for the proprietor, who had mysteriously found some work in the back room, far away from their conversation. “I tracked you!”

Itachi’s mouth made that tiny shift that said anybody else would have been rolling their eyes and scoffing. Sasuke wanted to lunge across the table and shove his fingers between his lips, pry his face open, screaming his rage, until his jaw came off in a shower of bone and blood and popping tendons--

No.

Breathe.

“Regardless of how you found me,” Itachi said neutrally, “it seemed like something that you should know. There’s a recessive gene in our clan, which allows men to carry a child to term. It is... not as easy as the pregnancies of many women, but it is possible.”

Sasuke stared at him.

For a split-second he wondered if this meant he could restore his own clan, no untrustworthy other people involved. He opened his mouth. “Do I --”

And then everything went a bit fuzzy when he contemplated _precisely what Orochimaru would do with this information if he ever found out._

His blood rushed in his ears, and his mind’s eye filled with potential: himself, bloated and stumbling, overpowered helpless; his belly filled with terrible coiling creatures, pale serpentine monsters with gleaming sharingan eyes.

He tasted bile.

“Sasuke?”

No. _No_. Anything. Think of _anything_ but that. That was --

No.

His eyes rested again on Itachi’s distended belly. He had to be fairly far along to be showing like this. Six months, Sasuke guessed. It looked strange on him. Itachi was not a huge man, and his swollen stomach seemed awkward and out of place.

He looked at Itachi and knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn’t kill him while he was pregnant with an Uchiha child. He couldn’t.

After, maybe.

Maybe after he could raise it. He could hardly be worse than no parents, after all.

Orochimaru would have to die, he thought idly. There was no way he could be allowed to get his hands on a helpless Uchiha baby. But then Orochimaru would have to die either way, wouldn’t he?

“Who’s the father?” he heard himself ask distantly, past the rush of horror. “One of the Akatsuki?”

“Mm,” agreed Itachi.

“And I--?”

“I would recommend having the blood work done,” Itachi said carefully.

“Right,” said Sasuke, mechanically. His eyes dropped to _Itachi’s pregnant belly_ again. “Does it--?” He stopped.

“Uncomfortable,” Itachi said after a second’s thoughtful pause. “Nauseating at first. Pregnancy compresses the bladder, too, which is quite inconvenient. My back hurts. But she kicks,” he added, rubbing his hand over she.

“She,” murmured Sasuke, still staring.

He had a niece. Maybe. Probably. “And you’re keeping it?”

“Her,” Itachi corrected flatly. “And yes.”

Sasuke grunted to acknowledge the statement, but said nothing at all.

“Here,” said Itachi, and before Sasuke had even thought to pull back, he snatched his wrist and tugged his hand close, across the narrow table, pulling Sasuke off balance -- and --

It was a terrible display of trust, Sasuke thought, to put his hand palm-flat against Itachi’s own stomach. The fetus inside was so vulnerable, protected only by the shield of Itachi’s body, and they both knew Sasuke wanted to hurt him, to take him and rip into him and rend him --

He _felt_ it.

Sasuke paused.

He swallowed.

Pregnant. She. _Niece_.

 _Family_.

Itachi let go.

Sasuke did not move his hand.

He raised his eyes, dark and wild, to meet Itachi’s placid ones.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, if you decide you like this, tell me your feels and wave your arms and talk to me~! Or my tumblr is [tozettewrites](tozettewrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
